A remarkable form of entertainment we all share a capacity for would be our dreams. We simply close our eyes every night, and miraculously find ourselves engaged in activities that we never would think possible, and visiting places we never knew existed. I enjoy immensely the stories my mind creates for me while I sleep, and several years ago I devised a system to record my dreams for further review in the morning. I originally started recording my dreams for the purpose of learning more about myself, but more often than not I find them to be merely charming rather than a source of self-revelation. Still, regardless of their significance, I constantly marvel at the clarity and realism of dreams.

The method I came up with for recording my dreams is quite simple. I leave a note pad and pencil next to my bed every night. Whenever I wake up during the night, even if I can’t remember dreaming at all, I quietly lie in bed, and patiently wait for fragments of my dream to filter into my conscious mind. I generally list just the major points of the dream, and can usually recall almost all of it the next morning while reviewing my notes and filling in the missing details.

I used this system to record a dream I experienced one night after attending a large party. I spent a better part of the evening drinking beer with some friends, and when I finally got home, I stripped off my clothing and went straight to bed. Sometime during the night I started dreaming about waiting in line for the bathroom back at the party. It seemed so real that I could hear the music playing in the background and even spoke to a few of the guests as I waited impatiently for the line to move. The most realistic aspect of this particular dream however, would be the urgency I felt in my need to reach the front of the line. It seemed that even though a constant exchange of patrons paraded in and out of the bathroom, the line remained steadfast in its length, and my situation grew more desperate with each passing moment. This phenomenon did not seem odd to me, but rather annoyed me, so I decided to go outside in search of a more accessible place to relieve myself.

I found a tall tree set back in a corner between the house and the fence surrounding the backyard. I walked around to the backside of the tree, and found that it would provide the seclusion I needed. I prepared myself for the process of personal relief and, just before I relinquished control, the idea that this could be a dream snaked its way into my mind. I subtly became aware that I needed to make an immediate decision. I could either go ahead and water this tree, or heed the small warning being whispered to me inside my head and wake up. Somehow, either by myself or by way of some mechanism inside me, the resolution came through that I should wake up. I did so just in time to dash to the bathroom adjacent to my bedroom, and while standing there, my dream came rushing back to me.

How real it seemed: the frustration I felt standing in that line, the sights and sounds of the party, even my own physical needs became transposed into my dream, alerting my conscious mind in time to thwart disaster. I knew from experience that even though I awoke with total recall of this dream, if I simply went back to sleep, I would remember almost nothing of it the next morning, and so I quickly jotted down the experience when I returned to bed.

Some of my dreams present themselves with even greater lucidity, and I find it difficult to tell the difference between them and reality for several moments after awakening. The blurred line between the dream state and normal consciousness can be intriguing, as might be the case if I wake up after dreaming of a romantic interlude with some mysterious dream woman. It can also be quite horrifying, for instance waking up drenched with sweat, my heart pounding with the thought that the creature just chasing me down the street a few moments ago now lurks somewhere near in my room.

Of course, I prefer the lingering thoughts of sex dreams, but my feelings upon awaking from such a dream most often result in an ambiguous mix of euphoria and frustration. I find this strange because I truly believe that my subconscious mind completely understands me and protects my best interests. The woman it generates for me always emanates great warmth and generosity wrapped in her unconditional affection that can only be matched by her classic beauty and grace. Additionally, any inhibitions that normally temper my conscious sex life become completely void in my dreams, leaving me to enjoy it to the fullest. While this would seem to be the perfect scenario, for reasons unknown to me my mind denies me the final consummation of the sexual act during these dreams.

This paradox dispensed itself recently in a dream I experienced involving a young brunette woman whom I don't recall ever meeting. I can remember seeing her face clearly, and even now could pick her out of a crowd. I could feel her warm breath and the pressure between our lips when we kissed. I could feel her heart beating against my chest, and could even recognize the scent of her perfume. As we progressed, the emotion between us reached full passion, and I remember feeling completely safe with her and dangerously in love. No words exist to adequately describe the surge of disappointment that ran through me when I awoke before the curtain fell on the last act of this dream.

I use to worry about this missing chapter of such dreams when wet dreams first became known to me through my peers in Junior High School. All my friends in school experienced them, and skewed logic told me that everyone was receiving this sort of advanced instruction but me, and so something must be terribly amiss in my libido. Now I enjoy these dreams for as far as they will take me, and if they continue to take me just to the edge and never any further, at least I can always finish the mechanics off when I awaken. In any case, dreaming still remains my favorite pastime while unconscious and I doubt that any other man-made simulation, such as movies or even virtual reality, will ever take its place as a safe, somewhat passive way of experiencing the limitless activities the mind offers.